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Writer's pictureMarcy Judd

Say Her Name & Write Her Story

Good morning, Fam. :)


I know some of you are anxiously awaiting more details. I have them and I am treasuring them in my heart.


I have been thinking for the past three days about Mary. I've been thinking about this passage which picks up just after some shepherds have been visited by some angels who have announced Jesus' birth:


“When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭2‬:‭15‬-‭20‬ ‭NIV‬‬


It has been a very full past 4 days for us. I have wanted several times to sit down and begin to journal every detail I can remember. I am so intensely worried of forgetting anything at all about Abigail's story. But there just has not been that time and space yet to write.


We buried Abby on Sunday and then had dinner with some family and friends. When we got home and walked in the door I was already preparing myself to walk into our home for the first time without her being here. And debating within myself how quickly to begin putting away the things we used to care for her while we had her at home. It was bedtime though so our main priority was getting Theo bathed and in bed and then afterward I thought I'd take my own bath and begin to write.


Theodore has been processing verbally so impressively well. I won't share with everyone yet (or maybe at all) everything he is experiencing. I feel it's his story to share and process and I don't feel comfortable sharing on the internet without his consent. He's too young to give that informed consent yet so those are details that you probably won't get too many of on this blog. If you are a parent carrying a child with a life limiting diagnosis and you have other children, please feel free to contact me and I would be honored to share those parts of our story with you in a more private platform.


What I will say is that when we got home Sunday night and were trying to get Theo ready for bed, he became very confused and kept asking over and over "Where's Abby? Where's Abby?" even though we have included him in every bit of this journey. This past weekend has been so incredibly stimulating for him and processing all of this at 2.5 years old is a big task. I know it is for you all too. In the time we had her outside the womb, Theo was so incredibly gentle and curious and heartachingly loving with his baby sister. He misses her.


We miss her too.


We got Theo down for bed and then I tried to take my bath and begin to write but within minutes of getting in, exhaustion crashed over me. I couldn't stay awake any longer. So I didn't write.


Yesterday morning I woke up dreaming of Abby. Theo woke us up. He was crying. Michael was asking me to go check on him but I wasn't all the way awake yet. I was dreaming Abigail was sleeping next to me and I didn't want to move and wake her up. So I asked Michael to go check on Theo instead and to bring me some medicine because I was hurting. It wasn't until Michael came back that I fully woke up to realize I had been dreaming. Of course Abby wasn't sleeping next to me. We buried her on Sunday.


The sorrow crashed in on me then. So I prioritized feeling it fully and deeply instead of writing. Then eventually we got up and played with Theo and had breakfast before our first visitors arrived. And so yesterday with out of town family and friends coming in and out all day and evening there was no space to write. And when everyone left at Theo's bedtime I didn't feel like writing then either.


Today I hope to write. I don't want to forget a single thing. It's already Tuesday and Michael and I both feel things have gone so so fast. There's a hole in our home. She's not here. And it feels like her memory is already fading. We aren't ready for that. So today I hope to start writing. I think I'll have the space. I have two asks of you.


First, forgive me for not sharing all the details with you just yet. I am treasuring them in my heart. I realized yesterday that a day is coming when I will have no new information and no new stories to tell about Abigail. I am not ready for that day.


I thought over this weekend that maybe I would be done blogging now. It hasn't been for me that I've been blogging. It has been a responsibility I've felt I've been given by my God to not only carry her but to share her story. And I thought maybe since she's gone now that my responsibility had ended. That maybe I could stop blogging. But I have to tell you that this weekend was so miraculous and holy in a thousand different details that as I've worshipped and wondered at all I've experienced, I've realized that these details are still part of her story and I cannot start to hoard her now.


So please forgive me for how long it will take to share the details you probably want to know about her and her story. I am treasuring them in my heart but I will not hoard them.


Second, please say her name and write the parts of her story that you hold in your heart. I want to know everything about her and there are too many people now who have been impacted by her or who met her or helped this past weekend and now you hold parts of her story in your possession too.


We miss her. Desperately. So I don't ask this as a divine order of responsibility to share her story - like what I feel I've been given or why the shepherds shared what they experienced in Bethlehem that night so long ago. I ask simply as a momma who wishes she could hold her baby just one more time. And as a momma of a sweet 2.5 year old boy who misses his baby sister and keeps asking us where heaven is. Please write her story.


If you could write her story then maybe some day when you have had time and space, you could share it with us. And maybe that will help you find some healing. And maybe it will be like getting to learn something new about my baby girl long after she is gone. And maybe it will help Theodore as he grows up without her to be able to understand more and process more what has happened.


I understand that right now talking about her may be very difficult. And saying her name may make you cry. If that's true, let me shepherd you. Just for this moment.


You need to do this. You need to dive in. Do not be afraid of your grief. Do not be afraid to write or speak. Remember that quote from A Grace Disguised? Something about: The quickest way to reach the sun is not to run after it, chasing it as it sets, but to turn and walk boldly into the darkness behind you. It will hurt. And you will cry. But I promise you, as Abigail's momma, I promise you that you will find the sunshine again. There is JOY and beauty in her story. And you will feel it even as you think and speak of her. You will be blessed. So do not run or hide from the pain. It is not a curse. It is necessary that you feel it and process it if you are ever going to heal and find a new way forward.


So please, even if it's hard, write her story before you forget anything. And when you're willing and ready to share it, please send me a copy. And until you're willing to share it, please don't stop saying her name out loud.


Her name is Abigail. And she lives in heaven. For me and Michael and Theo, she has left a gap in our family and home that can never be filled. And we are not willing to let her fade away so quickly. Not this week. Not ever. So please. Say her name.


P.S. some people are not writers. If you would rather say her name and say her story, please contact our dear friend Kevin at Hainline.kevin@gmail.com to send voice memos or whatever you record. You can also text him (469-831-1568) to coordinate capturing the story together. He has graciously offered to compile the spoken stories for us.

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